hearts breaking at the speed of sound
by aesthetic promises
Summary: she curls her hand around his, fingers thin and delicate, and not for the first time in the new millennia, he thinks of escaping from her grasp and letting her go.


the title comes from stay awhile by ryan star. rated t for mentions of incest.

* * *

**hearts breaking at the speed of sound**

_I have loved you_, he thinks, and his lips curve into the semblance of a sneer when he sees the reply shining in the silver of his sister's eyes.

She curls her hand around his, fingers thin and delicate, and not for the first time in the new millennia, he thinks of escaping from her grasp and letting her go.

* * *

Artemis is quiet the day they are presented to their father, and Apollo feels a tremor in the air. He watches as his sister walks up to the king of the gods, sees her bow her head in respect, listens as she asks for her six wishes.

He meets her eyes when she turns around, trying to escape his gaze, and the question etched in his face is pointed, a knife thrust between her ribs, impossible to answer -

_Am I not enough for you?_

There is the faintest hint of regret in her eyes, a childish longing for him to understand and believe, but he will be damned if he does.

He strides out of the throne room without a backwards glance.

* * *

"You must learn to keep your vows," he tells her coldly. "A foolish infatuation, dear sister. Would you really give up everything for a man whose years are numbered?"

Anger flashes across her face, but quickly disappears.

"It is none of your business, brother," Artemis says calmly, but her fingers are white and the nails dig into her palm. "Orion is only a good friend, a hunting companion. And even if he was something more..."

He thinks he might slap her, wants to drag his nails across his face and destroy the porcelain skin stretched thin and taut across the bones, wants to pull her to him and kiss her, _hard_, bite the pale pink of her lips so that they turn crimson with blood. His jaw works, the only hint of the turmoil inside him, this monstrous feeling he has tried so hard to hide for centuries and is now escaping -

"Merely a precaution," he says roughly, trying to hide the trembling of his voice. "After all, I _am _your brother."

* * *

When he kills the son of Poseidon, it is the first time his sister is truly angry with him.

"I _loved_ him," she snarls, and her lips twist into something ugly and cruel, something he has never associated with her before. "Why?" she whispers, and her voice cracks like brittle glass.

Apollo's lips curl, curve into the mirror image of her expression, and his musician's hands turn into hard fists. "I did what I had to," he says, voice shaking with the need to make her understand. "I'm your brother. Am I to sit idly by and watch my sister give away her life to a mere mortal?"

The betrayal in her eyes haunts him for centuries afterwards.

* * *

She kisses him first.

The city burns below them, and Mount Olympus is hushed. Ares and Aphrodite are for once solemn and silent, watching with dulled hearts as the city they fought so hard to protect for a decade is destroyed in a mere night. Hera's face is lit with a grim smile, and for once, Athena agrees with her stepmother. Artemis wanders the halls and temples, a slim silver shadow, and searches for her brother.

She finds him gazing coolly at a hazy image of a slender girl, clutching at a statue of the goddess of wisdom. Fear is set in every line of her face, her eyes are large and filled with terror, but there is a mad sort of beauty about her, etched into the curve of her graceful neck, the way her long black curls contrast with the paleness of her skin.

"The mad priestess," Artemis says lightly, in an attempt to break the trance her brother has entered. "You love her still?"

"A human emotion," he replies coldly, and turns his head to escape her piercing gaze. "We are gods; we do not experience love like mortals," he continues quickly, as if trying to convince himself. "In the grand scheme of things, the thoughts and feelings of humans do not matter. What is a lifetime compared with eternity? This girl is no different."

Artemis purses her lips, reaches for her brother's hand with her own - and when she sees the pain in his face, the sadness and shame and regret in his eyes, the reaction, the need to comfort, is automatic.

Her lips scrape against his, soft and questioning. Artemis almost feels the widening of her brother's eyes, but she doesn't stop. His mouth is tender, and she wonders if this is how Orion's mouth would have felt. His hands reach to drape around her waist, and she smiles against his lips.

For her, this is the closest thing to _I love you._

* * *

"You and your lovers," Artemis tells him one day, full lips curving into an easy smirk. "Must you be so fickle, brother?" She lifts her head, half-closes her eyes, and Apollo is glad that she cannot see the narrowing of his eyes, the tightening of his jaw.

"One of us must earn a reputation, whether it be good or bad," he replies, grinning. "The Italians love me. The Renaissance loves me." He pauses, raises his arms as if to encompass the entire villa. "The humans all worship me."

Artemis rolls her eyes, smoothes out the thin fabric of her dress. "And me?" she asks, voice faintly teasing. "What do they think of me?"

_A goddess among the divine_, Apollo wants to say, the flowery language of the poet instilled his veins. _The most beautiful woman in the world. The girl I have loved for a thousand lifetimes._

"Merely my sister," he says instead, and grins when she sticks her tongue out at him.

* * *

They are brother and sister, and that is never to be changed.

_Am I not enough for you? _Apollo thinks once, twice, a thousand times in as many years.

He knows the answer.

(That does not keep him from continuing to hope.)


End file.
